Amazing
by Sarlyne
Summary: "63,088% of mankind is dumb, 36,9% a bit more intelligent, but only 0,012% are intelligent. I belong to the 1% of intelligent, who are genius."   Sherlock is pretty sure that John Watson is like any other human- pretty soon pissed of by Sherlock. Right?


_~63,088% of mankind is dumb, 36,9% a bit more intelligent, but only 0,012% _are _intelligent. I belong to the 1% of intelligent, who are genius.~_

I leaned back against the black leather of the cab to focus my thoughts on the case, leaving the doctor to my left with a stunned expression on the face. Of course stunned; even impressed, shocked, bewildered, confused. Like everyone was, when I read their life from nothing more than a pocket watch, wallet... or a phone. Unnecessary to say, most of them became either angry or annoyed by it. They had no reason to, but

99,988% of mankind happens to be stupid, what leads to the sad, but true fact that this simple thing called deduction is too complex for them. Lestrade is a perfect example; first he comes up with an incredible stupid explanation of a case and doesn't see the obvious things. Only when I wasted my time with explaining the obvious, he will believe me. (Anderson belongs to the group of beings, who have no more IQ than an amoeba; he will still not believe me, although everything is so obvious.)

Doctor John Watson had just put himself in the same box as Lestrade, although he was easier to get along with; didn't say that stupid sounding stuff- at least he didn't talk it out loud. And he was a quiet person, not like Mrs Hudson. Not as quiet as my skull of course, but quiet enough not to disturb me. Well, he hadn't up to now, but I knew him only for a few hours. Oh, and he wasn't as annoying as Mycroft. Still annoying like everyone else, but there are limits.

But certainly_ I_ just annoyed him. Because I had told him a lot more about himself and his family, than his little brain would ever have imagined I could do. Because he was an idiot, like everyone else.

"That was... amazing!"

The perfect logical thoughts in my head, of how the next crime scene might look like, crumbled down immediately and left me startled. Slowly, very slowly I turned my head to look at John Watson. He was sitting there, shaking his head and laughing quietly, as if somebody had told him fairies exist.

"You think so?" Somehow I expected that he was only making a joke and that I didn't get the irony in the sentence. Rather than being quiet positive amused-impressed I had bet he would shout something rude at my deductions. Tell me to shut up and that my intelligence wasn't impressing, but annoying- though people do not say _amazing_ in such a way he did just for fun. Maybe a few, but John Watson didn't belong to this sort of men. Still, hard to believe it should be the truth the other way around. But his voice told me he didn't lie.

"Of course it was!"

What should I say now? Everyone tells me to shut the hell up –what had never bothered me, because they are all _so vacant_- and this man looked like a happy child that just met Santa Claus, although everyone told him that Santa doesn't exist.

As if he was the first one, who didn't bother to take a closer look at me, Sherlock Holmes.

"Extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary!"

"That is not what people normally say." Somehow I felt deeply moved, but it was only a little part inside me, that vanished in the bigger feeling of surprise, but however still remained. And it made my heart beat a bit more intense than usual. But still I questioned myself if he was joking or not. It was the very first time that my abilities in Cold Reading ran against a wall.

John raised an eyebrow and looked interested, still with a curious smile on the face. "What _do_ people normally say?"

It took me a few seconds to answer. Not because I was ashamed or sad about it, but because John Watson still seemed to be unreal. He wasn't normal; nobody would call me amazing. Mycroft does, but he would tell me in the same breath that I was a cold hearted, arrogant, resentful, childish sociopath- he wouldn't

_smile_ at me.

""Piss off.""

He gave me an unbelieving look, expecting _me_ this time to fool around. But I didn't, either. So John looked out of the window and started again to laugh.

Even a sociopath like me felt that a wall between us had crumbled down and -most remarkable- it didn't bother me. The first time I didn't care that somebody was in some strange way attracted to me, because nobody ever had.

I cannot deny it made me smile, too.

And if he had confessed this had been the most incredible and best 2 minutes of his entire life, I swear, I would also have started humming happily.

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